


Creation

by Zatnikatel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatnikatel/pseuds/Zatnikatel





	Creation

**Day 1.** The residents wake to a power outage, with no light to see by.

The problem is minor, so Castiel fixes it and restores light for them.

**Day 2.** Castiel notes that the windows of this place are grimy, streaked with watermarks and spattered with bird feces. He waves his hand, cleans the filth of the rust-belt air from the glass.

An arm links through his, and, "Look at the sky, Charles," the old woman says. "You've given us back the sky."

**Day 3.** The clean windows have revealed the barren patch of earth under the dayroom in all its muddy sparseness.

With the snap of his fingers, Castiel plants grass, shrubs, trees, bright flowers that shouldn't be blooming now but are. He positions benches, a bird table, a pond. He smiles, and a splash of color is caught in the branches of a tree: a kite, wafting brightly on the breeze.

**Day 4.** "I named a star for your eyes, Charles," the old woman whispers, leaning into Castiel as he gazes up at the inky night sky. "But I forget which one it was." 

Castiel folds his wing around her and gestures through the window, clearing away the cloud cover with a handwave, so that the moon casts her silvery glow across a sea of sparkling stars.

She sighs. "It was that one."

**Day 5.** The bird table remains stubbornly empty, and the pond is sealed over with sheet ice.

Castiel cocks his head, and from the sky a small flock of birds descends to crowd about the bird table. The ice melts, and the silver flare of a fish leaps through the surface of the pond to twist gracefully in mid-air before plopping back into the water.

**Day 6.** Castiel frowns as he studies the garden. Something is still missing, and he can't work out what it is until there is a light pressure at his leg and he glances down to see the cat entwining itself between his calves.

_Oh…_

Within the space of a thought, rabbits are gamboling across the lawn, and squirrels scurry along the branches of the trees.

Castiel bends to lift the cat, and its purr catches in its throat as it stares avidly. "No eating," he says firmly.

There is motion next to him then, and the old woman's eyes aren't as bright as they usually are. "You're not Charles," she murmurs.

"No," Castiel tells her, low and gentle. "But unless I'm mistaken, I think that is?"

She turns to where he is looking, at an old man sitting at a table playing cards, and she smiles.

**Day 7.** Castiel rests.


End file.
